


Past Lives

by Impala_Cherry_Trickster



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Court Sorcerer Merlin (Merlin), First Dates, Fluff, Gwaine Being Gwaine (Merlin), Hurt Merlin (Merlin), Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Protective Arthur, Protective Knights (Merlin)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:21:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28589448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impala_Cherry_Trickster/pseuds/Impala_Cherry_Trickster
Summary: Gwaine's worried about Merlin, so he seeks out the Knights for help
Relationships: Gwaine/Merlin (Merlin), Knights of the Round Table & Merlin (Merlin), Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 325





	Past Lives

Gwaine didn’t want to. Truly, he didn’t. But he loved Merlin more than anything else, and that led him to the group of people that might be able to help him. Walking across the training grounds, the pit in his stomach grew worse, the guilt eating away as he thought about how Merlin had responded this morning.

He thought that, after the Magic reveal, Merlin would smile more often. That he’d share his burdens, that the way he recoiled away would fade.

It didn’t.

He spotted Arthur, challenging Leon to a playful fight that would end with the two of them slapping each other on the back. The other Round Table Knights, as Merlin had nicknamed them, were lingering around, basking in the sun while avoiding the training they were supposed to be doing.

‘Sire,’ The title alone was enough for his friends to turn, heads snapping up, ‘I was wondering if I could have a word with you. About Merlin.’ He added the last bit on, remembering the wide-eyed look of panic that came from his boyfriend, the way he’d hurried away from Gwaine’s embrace with excuses of chores.

‘If it’s about the fact he won’t sleep with you, I really will put you in the stocks.’ Arthur grumbled, clearly not picking up on the title that he’d used.

‘What’s wrong?’ Leon, for all his noble-born traits, was incredibly protective over Merlin. It was no surprise that he abandoned his sword in favour of looking to Gwaine, who hesitated.

This felt like a breach of trust. But Merlin would die to keep his secrets, and Gwaine knew he was becoming sick with everything he hid, the burden shown in the bags under his eyes.

‘I was wondering if you’d ever known of anyone showing an… interest in Merlin.’ Arthur frowned, placing the practice sword back on a rack and turning to him in confusion.

‘We’re talking about the same Merlin? Lanky, big ears…’ Gwaine ignored the list of snipes against his love, instead squared his shoulders up slightly.

‘Before you came to Camelot? Not that I’ve noticed.’ Lancelot interjected, but he looked to Leon for support on that.

The Knight paused, mulling over the words, while Arthur’s eyes narrowed.

‘What’s this about?’ He could lie. It might save the inquisition, Arthur had never been known for a tactful approach to questions.

‘I think… someone hurt him.’ That was an understatement. From the way Merlin reacted…

‘Hurt him?’ Elyan questioned, jumping on the bandwagon of concerned Knights.

‘He told us that his Magic put him in situations…’

‘Intimately.’ The word was wrong, it didn’t fit, but he was trying to be polite.

Arthur stopped speaking.

‘Why do you say that?’ Lancelot was nothing but gentle, moving across to make space for Gwaine on the bench.

He hadn't realised how worried he’d been until the Knight gestured for him to sit down, slumping down while ignoring the worry that came with just thinking about Merlin. He knew the Warlock ran into danger, but surely he would have _told_ Gwaine if that happened.

‘I thought it was just his Magic, to begin with. The flinching, the way he’d recoil…’

‘But…’ Leon prompted, teeth gritted despite the fact that he had said nothing bad yet.

‘It didn’t add up. Merlin’s not _shy_ , but this morning,’ He froze, remembering the way Merlin had gasped, the panic that had Gwaine stumbling, ‘It’s terror. Fear.’

**

Merlin didn’t want to. Truly, he didn’t. But he loved Gwaine, loved him more than he should, and he was so desperate not to hurt him. The Knight was a _noble_ , while Merlin was a bastard-born Warlock with a history of running into trouble. Not just with his Magic, sadly.

This morning had been an accident. He’d been concentrating on the herbs he was grinding, rather than Gwaine’s animated description of a bear he’d once faced, the Knight chatting away while they sat together in Gaius’s home.

He’d moved to one of the shelves, reaching up to grab something from the top shelf, when Gwaine had come up behind him. That was fine, Merlin did adore the way the Knight would hug him, would give him affection without ever expecting anything in return. There was nothing he loved more, but in that moment, Merlin hadn't been focused on Gwaine.

He’d seen the red cape, felt the light-armour that the Knight was dressed in, and his mind had jumped to a conclusion that wasn’t correct.

Gwaine hadn’t mentioned it. His eyes widened, lips parted like he wished to ask a question, but he didn’t. For that, Merlin was eternally grateful.

Now, however, he watched as Gwaine peeked around the doorway, nerves written into his handsome features.

‘Hey, Merls.’ There was an undertone to the words, something that had Merlin’s nerves picking up, before he forced them back down.

‘Gwaine, I didn’t expect you till the evening.’ They were supposed to be going out on patrol together, Merlin had specifically asked Arthur for the evening off because of it.

‘It is evening.’ Gwaine remarked, but he didn’t look bothered by Merlin’s poor timekeeping skills, simply offered out a hand.

This, Merlin could do.

He followed willingly, until they turned away from the route to the armoury.

‘Gwaine?’

‘I got the night off. C’mon, I’ve planned a surprise.’

It was only once they were out under the cover of darkness that Merlin realised the nerves had vanished, Magic settling down to nothing more than a faint buzz as Gwaine led him out of the Gates, towards the grassy embankment of the training field.

‘What are we… oh.’ He broke off, staring at the sight before him, while Gwaine waited for a response.

The first thing he wanted to point out is there was no way Gwaine had done all of this by himself. The blankets were laid out under the stars, a picnic hamper with what Merlin hoped was those delicious smelling foods he’d noticed earlier when he went to pick up Arthur’s lunch.

‘You had help.’ He accused, teasingly, taking a step closer.

It was perfect. Too perfect, considering Merlin’s actions this morning.

‘I wanted to impress.’ Gwaine shot back, smile disarmingly beautiful as he spoke.

Was… was he expecting something? Merlin found his panic rising, a gnawing urge to flee, but Gwaine’s hand was back in his, soothing.

‘Thought we could sit out under the stars, eat until we feel fit to burst? It’s plenty safe, the Guards are patrolling a way back.’ So no expectations, Merlin realised, sitting down on the furs. Gwaine joined him, keeping a small distance, and it was then that Merlin figured it out.

Gwaine knew. Or, at least, he thought he did. He’d worked something out, and had decided that he was going to try and _comfort_ Merlin.

No anger, no judgement, no running away.

He could have cried. Luckily, Gwaine was reaching for the hamper, didn’t notice Merlin swiping at a stray tear.

He wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve Gwaine, but he was thanking the Gods for him.

**

Affection, Lancelot said. It would make Merlin feel _safe_ , the one thing he needed more than anything.

Gwaine could do that. He wasn’t usually a tactile person, didn’t crave affection or touches or hugs. But for Merlin, _with_ Merlin, he was more than willing to take the step. Dates weren’t his thing either, but Elyan had insisted that this was the perfect thing, and Arthur admitted to Merlin obsessing over the stars.

In return, they asked that he tell them if Merlin was ever uncomfortable with them. Arthur, of course, wanted a name and exact location of whoever had harmed a hair on his manservant’s head, but Lancelot had pointed out that Merlin wasn’t an open person, he wouldn’t want the concern that came.

They’d given him the right advice, Gwaine thought, looking down to the Warlock curled up against his chest.

He’d never heard Merlin laugh so brightly, so _freely_ , until now. Watched as he snacked away on foods while Gwaine tried to give the stars all names, _he could have sworn that one looked like a Patricia,_ took his hand half-way through it.

‘I’m sorry for this morning.’ Merlin murmured, fingers tracking circles over Gwaine’s heartbeat.

He hadn't expected that.

‘You don’t need to apologise.’ He assured his Warlock, pressing a brief kiss to the man’s forehead and grinning when Merlin didn’t tense up.

‘It was the cape.’ He blurted, a second later.

‘The… cape?’ Gwaine had to be careful. This was dangerous territory, he knew that, and one wrong move might make Merlin uncomfortable.

_‘He’ll tell you in his own time, Gwaine. In his own way.’_

Lancelot had definitely got a point.

‘I… it was a Camelot cape.’

So, Merlin had figured out that he knew. His first instinct was anger, wanting to demand a name of the Knight, _Arthur’s Knight,_ that had dared to make him this afraid.

‘Would you like me to remove it, before I visit you?’ There, he thought he’d phrased that well.

Until he heard Merlin sniff, and he pulled back, terrified at the watery eyes looking at him.

‘Merlin? I’m sorry, I didn’t…’ Whatever he was about to say was cut off by lips against his, chaste and trembling and full of an emotion that he couldn’t place.

‘You didn’t ask.’ He whispered, not moving from this position, propped up against him.

‘When you’re ready, you’ll tell me.’ Gwaine echoed Lancelot’s advice, watching as Merlin’s eyes widened, before a smile flitted over his face.

A genuine, heartfelt smile. It reached his eyes, sparkling as he hesitantly leaned in to peck a kiss to Gwaine’s lips.

‘Thank you.’ He murmured, the distance between them minimal.

‘Nothing to thank me for, love.’ Gwaine assured, making a note to buy Lancelot a drink.

Merlin curled back up, tucking his head under Gwaine’s chin, fingers wandering to find his own, before resting on his chest.

Maybe two drinks.


End file.
